About (Harry Styles)

7.

Packing and cleaning is a tiring job for someone who hates packing and cleaning. That someone is me. But with someone as tidy as Niall Horan is, it's not so bad. I mean, Niall.

He offered to do majority of tasks like piling up the boxes, taking out my garbage, etc. We shared a many laughs, had a few drinks (non-alcholic, of course), and after that, he stayed and watched some random film featuring Emma Watson on TV with me. He kept blabbering on about how he wished she hadn't done the pixie cut and I disagreed just to disagree. Although I liked her look much better with longer hair, I think the pixie cut gives her a very dominant, fierce personality.

"I really should get going," Niall Horan says to me as the movie changes to a commercial. "I have a dinner appointment with a friend tonight."

"Okay," I say as we both stand. "Thank you so much for your help. I would still be cleaning if it wasn't for you."

"No problem." He walks over to the door, and I follow behind him. Suddenly, I find myself in an awkward situation. I don't know how to say goodbye to Niall Horan, I mean Niall, since he's officially a friend of mine now. I have to get used to that.

A hug? Wave goodbye?

This is stupid. I'm making this a bigger deal than it has to be.

Just do what comes naturally, I mentally tell myself.

He turns the knob and takes a step out into the barren hallway. He stops and whirls around, his expression contemplative, as if he forgot something.

"You didn't give me your number," he points out and I feel a sense of excitement spur through me.

"Wait here."

I quickly run to TV stand, grab a piece of paper and my favorite black pen from the pocket of my purse and try to write my number out legibly with my shaking fingers.

"Here," I say, handing him the ripped paper.

He stuffs it into his backpocket and asks, "You still planning on developing those photos tonight?"

"Yes, I shouldn't have left it until now to do it. That's one thing you'll learn quickly about me. I tend to leave things off until the very end," I chuckle, and he amuses me by doing the same.

"Well, I still think you should go with someone. It's not safe to roam around at night. Especially for a pretty girl like you," he says it so smoothly and casually that I'm quite taken aback.

"Why do people assume I can't take care of myself? Because I'm a girl?"

"Exactly," he bluntly states. "I would take you but I have that dinner. I still think you should wait for Marco."

"He's not gonna be back til later. Besides, he's probably exhausted from his long day. I don't want to bother him."

"Wait," he pauses for a second as if he remembers something life changing. "I know someone who's been meaning to develop their photos."

"You do?"

"Yes. I'll have him come by and pick you up."

"Umm, I don't think that's not necessary," I try to politely refuse. If he keeps insisting, my innate nature of avarice might just ...

"It won't be any trouble."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he says enthusiastically. "I mean, it's only a ten minute drive from here to there. I'll call him to come pick you up. Just wait outside your dorm."

"I don't know," I say, in order to look more modest.

"Don't worry about it. He's really nice. Trust me," he turns on his heels and waves as he scurries down the blue carpeted hallway, disappearing into the wall after he waves goodbye.